


Steady, Steady, Steady

by Bearlyy



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 06:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15285597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearlyy/pseuds/Bearlyy
Summary: Phil is leaving, and this time Dan doesn't know how to bring him back. Dan tries one last time to say everything in a way that will make Phil understand. And it's a shot in the fucking dark, but everything about them has been a one in a million chance, so why wouldn't this be the same?





	Steady, Steady, Steady

It's Dan's room now, really truly his.

He'll never have to complain about Phil hogging the blankets or kicking him in his sleep. He won't have to pretend that no one else sleeps in his bed when he films a video. 

Because it's not 2009 anymore, and nothing is simple, and nothing is sacred. 

Dan stands up from his laptop, closing tumblr and twitter, which hadn't worked to distract him like he'd hoped they would. Even on the internet, his one safe place, there were people who wanted to know about him and Phil. 

_Who tops?_

_SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN THE VALENTINES VIDEO!!!_

_Is Phan real?_

And Dan wants to write a tweet or make a video and tell them, tell all of them that nothing is the same and Phil might have made a Valentines video years ago but Phil wasn't a savior or a hero or anything. He was a person who made mistakes and fucked up and wears his shirts inside out half the time.

He was just another man who was trying hard and not hard enough, and he was at the door.

Phil stands there, a box propped on his hip.

"Dan, I have to take these boxes out to the truck, I'll be right back, okay?"

Dan looks up, nods, mumbling something along the lines of agreement. Phil hesitates, puts the box down and crosses the room.

"Dan? Are you okay?" Phil reaches out for Dan's shoulder, falters halfway and awkwardly rests his hand on Dan's desk.

Of course he's not okay. Nothing is okay and Dan knows he was a brokenness too big for Phil to ever fix. Dan never expected Phil to fix him, not completely.

He expected Phil to try, to not give up when things got harder than snowy walks and kisses on the Manchester Eye.

Dan inhales, trying to find the words to keep Phil here. To make him stay, just for a little longer. Dan knows nothing is permanent, nothing is forever. But they felt permanent. Once upon a fucking time they felt like the start of something bigger then boxes and yelling and sleeping alone. 

"Phil?"

Phil blinks. "Yeah?" 

His shirt is inside out. He still looks like something Dan wants to eat. Or grow old with. One of the two.

Dan is drowning in this, in the sudden surge of emotion that he's kept quiet for months.

The internal monologue that had been on repeat in his head since Phil had said "I quit." Since he'd stood in their room and told Dan all the ways he'd failed. Since he'd said "I can't do it. Not anymore. I can't take fucking care of you all the time."

But now he isn't saying anything and maybe he is actually listening for once and Dan wants to start speaking and never stop.

And Phil's eyes are still the color of the ocean and they are all Dan can see, so Dan does what he's always done when everything is too much.

He grabs Phil and doesn't let go. All the fights and the cold distance fade and all that is left are the words.

So Dan starts talking.

"I thought I would always follow you. Through every room, past all the streetlights in London."

Phil's eyes close. He's listening, and Dan is talking and maybe everything will be okay.

Dan twists his hands in the fabric of Phil's shirt and starts again, "You could give me a pocketful of nothing and I would find meaning in it. I found meaning in this.”

Dan wants Phil to get it. He wants Phil. 

"So don’t throw this away for the story of it. We are so much more than a story, and I’ll be damned if I’m just a footnote in your history. This isn’t a book, Phil. This isn't just a fucking _story._ Your laugh isn’t a question I want to spend my whole life answering. Your eyes aren’t deeper than the sea. They’re just eyes, but they’re yours, so I love them. We’re not some perfect fit. We were not written to fit. We aren’t fucking made for each other, but we still have meaning. We can still make meaning, if you cared enough to fucking try."

And then there is silence. 

Deep, dark silence.

"Dan-" Phil starts, and in his voice is something that hasn't been there in a long time. Something that feels like two thousand and fucking nine. Dan pulls back, empty and spent and raises his head to look squarely at Phil.

Dan's voice is clear, all trace of fear gone. "You can leave. I won't stop you."

Phil bites his lip and glances at the boxes by the door. Then he looks back at Dan and something like a small smile, something like the sun after years of rain is suddenly on Phil Lester's perfect face. 

"Do I have to go today?" He asks, in a voice hesitant and tiny. He shakes his head, rephrases, "I know, we have shit we need to work out, and that's not going to change today." Phil says and rubs his eyes.

Phil is a mess. Dan is a mess. They've always looked a bit alike. 

"You could stay. You can choose to stay, Phil."

Dan reaches for Phil's hand and Phil doesn't pull away.

And it's not the answer to the hard questions, to the push and pull and light and dark. To the tears and the dust and the fact that maybe this is all anyone will ever get.

Phil tightens his grip on Dan's hand.

But in this moment, it's enough.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment if you wanna make me happy :)  
> did you like this fic?


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